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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27234028">My Extra Leg</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anjion/pseuds/Anjion'>Anjion</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Newsie Oneshots [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Newsies (1992)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:56:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>542</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27234028</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anjion/pseuds/Anjion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A newsie reveals what his most treasured possession is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Newsie Oneshots [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My Extra Leg</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, sadly, they belong to Disney. Mac, however, is my own creation. Please read and review!</strong>
</p><hr/>
<p>I have an extra leg. Admittedly, it's not the flesh and blood kind, but I'd be lost without it. It keeps me upright when I stand, it helps me to walk. In fact, it is probably my most treasured possession.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>My extra leg.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>When I was a small boy, a bad run-in with polio left me with a severely damaged right leg. Thankfully, I didn't lose it, but I was left reliant on others to help me move about. I was often carried, which I hated because it made me feel so helpless, so I started refusing help. I got about by dragging myself along, which was painful and exhausting, and usually left me in tears.</p>
<p>Then I met a kind old man called Mr Kloppman, who took pity on this poor orphan boy and later gave him the greatest gift he has ever received.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>My extra leg.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>When I have it in my hands or tucked under my arm, supporting me, I feel like I can do anything. This is why I am so optimistic and cheerful despite my disability. My friends used to be (and, to an extent, still are) amazed that a cripple could still have such a bright outlook on life, but if you think about it, things could have been worse.</p>
<p>But when I do<em> not</em> have it with me, like when those Delancey brothers steal it from me, my world is suddenly a very low, dark place and I lose sight of the good points in my life. I am left struggling on the ground until someone is kind enough to help me up. When it <em>is</em> restored to me, the relief is immense and I feel like I am floating for the rest of the day. But what could <em>possibly </em>have such a profound effect on me, you ask?</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>My extra leg.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>Because of my ruined right leg, I am unable to defend myself by fighting. Not that I'm particularly keen on fighting anyway, but it's always a good idea to at least be able to frighten a potential assailant away. Here, my extra leg is a real asset, because if it really comes to it, I can use it as a weapon, or at the very least a deterrent. (Although unfortunately it doesn't work on those Delanceys. I pity those two; their only living relative is their Uncle, Mr Wiesel, and I bet you <em>he </em>hasn't taught them the value of kindness.) But it <em>isn't</em> a weapon; not really. It's meant to help, not hurt.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>My extra leg.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>OK, so it's made of wood, and is little more than a customised crutch – which is why my friends call me Crutchy – but to me, it is so much <em>more </em>than a crutch. Without it, I'd still be struggling to even <em>stand </em>unaided, let alone <em>walk. </em>As long as I have my crutch, I have hope, and that's why it is so precious to me.</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>And of all the things in the world I could desire, I have the one thing that I need the most, and I am thankful. Because I have my extra leg.</strong>
  </em>
</p>
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